


Domestic Bliss

by forcellari



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-18
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forcellari/pseuds/forcellari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny called Steve at the end of a long day. This was bound to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Bliss

Between pulling off his shirt and ditching his cargos, Steve checked the time. He had about eight minutes to shower, tops, before The Call. The water hit his skin cold, but he couldn’t wait for it to warm up. Not a problem; he’d had worse.

T minus two minutes. No room for a leisurely bedtime routine. He toweled off with one hand and brushed his teeth with the other, as if he were back in Boot Camp. Couldn’t be late, couldn’t miss it or else Danny’d think something was wrong. It had been the same time, every day, for the last two weeks and he wasn’t about to break the streak.

He had his boxers on and sat on his bed when his phone went off. Steve pick it up from the nightstand, brightening at Danny’s name.

“Hey,” Steve rumbled into the receiver.

“Listen. I gotta take Grace to school in the morning,” Danny rattled off. “Rachel and the goof have this last minute appointment, blah blah blah I don’t care, I get twenty minutes with my daughter. Point is, you’re on your own tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Got it, Danny. Driving myself.” Steve broke into a wide smile as he stretched out on his bed.

He couldn’t remember how these end-of-day phone conversations started. It might’ve been after Meka’s wake, when Danny called to express his gratitude again for his trust and support. For over two hours afterwards, Steve relaxed on the recliner, beer in hand, as he listened to stories about Danny’s former partner and the various cases they’d solved together. The next Friday, Steve called Danny with a restaurant recommendation for his weekend with Grace. “Tell Anita I sent you. You guys’ll love it,” he promised. Danny called back later with a blow-by-blow report of the day.

They had a regular thing going in a matter of weeks. Somehow there was always a reason to call. A tidbit of information about a case ( _It’s critical to have his team all on the same page_ , Steve firmly insisted to himself), a reminder to bring the $17 Danny owed him for splitting the lunch check the other day, and many other important things. If what was meant to be quick call turned into an hour-long debate about the hazards of deep-fried foods, well, Steve had unlimited nights and weekends.

“How’s the arm?”

“How’s the arm, he says. How considerate of you to ask, Steven, since you were the one that got me shot—”

“You didn’t get shot. You fell off a crate.”

“Shot _at_. I was most definitely shot at. There was intent to kill, at the very least maim, by no less than six armed perps, which was completely unnecessary! I explained this to you before you went in, guns a-blazing, without backup, yet again. You do remember that…”

“But you _didn’t_ get shot,” Steve repeated.

Danny let out a long-suffering sigh. “This time. You better pray this luck of mine doesn’t run out. Then what are you going to do? You’ll be all alone, that’s what you’ll be. No one for you to torment with your blatant lack of concern for personal safety. No one to tell you, for the twenty-seventh time, that it is _not okay_ to stick a suspect’s head through the banister to get him to talk!”

“Promise?”

“Fuck you, McGarrett. You’ll miss me.”

Steve grinned. Yeah, he would, but he wasn’t about to admit just how much.

Even after spending close to 16 hours together huddled with the team at headquarters, covering for each other at the crime scene, chasing down suspects on foot, arguing heatedly in the car, and generally driving each other up the wall, it wasn’t enough. He needed this. This part of the day was for him.

“Miraculously,” Danny was still going, “thank the deity of your choice, I made it out today with all my limbs attached. I happen to like my limbs. And I especially like my life. There are many things I wish to stay alive for, as you know. But you see, the moment I met you, I knew, this maniac’s going to get me killed before my time.”

“You’re right,” Steve blurted.

“That you’re going to get me killed?”

“I might miss you.”

There was a brief pause before Danny’s choked laugh came over the line. “You hit your head harder than we thought? Synapses not firing like normal?”

“I’m fine, Danny. I’m great.”

“Riiight. Of course. Only you could get your ass pummeled during the day and already be geared up for another round. You have an affliction. It’s the only logical explanation.”

“Having things ‘fire properly' has never been a problem, Danno,” Steve replied. “Listen, I understand if at the end of a long day, things don’t work so well for you—“

“Whoa! Hey now. Are you about to make a joke about my bedroom skills, McGarrett? Seriously? Is that what this has come to?”

“It’s okay to admit when you’re a little spent.”

“Ho! I’ll have you know, Lothario,” Danny started, getting a little louder. Steve could see him jabbing a finger in the air. “I’m awesome in bed. Mind-blowing even. I’ve got stellar references. That’s one thing Rachel can’t ever complain about.”

“You say that but I can’t know for sure.”

Steve’s smile grew even wider. He laid back, one hand tucked between his head and the pillow and the other cradling the phone to his ear. _Yeah, he’s thought about it._

The first time sex with his partner crossed his mind was in the middle of his morning shower. He was jerking off mechanically when all of the sudden Danny’s voice slipped into his head, sarcastic, teasing, pulling his release from him. The shock of it brought him to an orgasm so great, he couldn’t look Danny in the eye for a good half day, agreeing to everything he said. Danny asked for the name of the therapist that finally put him on medication.

“Uh yeah,” Danny coughed. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Fire away.”

Danny sputtered, “F..fi..r. Are you—? Forget I even asked. We’re having a conversation here. Conversations, they involve dialogue. Questions followed by answers. Am I supposed to do everything? You’ve got to give me something to go on here.”

“Like, did you really need that fancy coffee drink today? That stuff’s not healthy.”

“What I put in my mouth is my own business—!”

And with that shot, Danny went off like a hockey puck, hitting edges and scoring points, bouncing at tangents on high speed. But Steve found that if he distanced himself from the onslaught, let the words wash over him, they melded together like the sound of surf, familiar and exciting. He felt himself relaxing, his shields falling away. That’s what Danny’s voice did to him.

Without thinking too much about it, Steve slid his hand to the top of his boxers and trailed his fingers over the sensitive skin there. Slowly he dipped below the fabric where his cock twitched once in anticipation. Laying his head back, he wrapped his hand around himself and tugged.

He’d done this before, surreptitiously taking care of business with others nearby. It was yet another skill he had acquired over the years, extra-curricular. He honed it over many months, surrounded by a dozen sleeping soldiers. Laying on that narrow cot, he regulated his breathing and kept his body still under the thin blanket, but for the hand that slipped down his regulation shorts. He was silent, biting back his pleasure, shuddering in place. It left him loose-limbed and heavy, guaranteeing a deep sleep free of echoes and explosions.

Now, finally alone in his own bed, in his own house, there was no need for covert movements, no one to hear him take his pleasure.

Except for this one thing.

“Hello? Earth to Steve.”

He rewound the conversation in his head for an appropriate response.

“Yeah.” Admittedly, it wasn’t his best.

“Am I _boring_ you? Jesus, and he says he’ll miss me. The flame is gone.”

The words finally caught up to him.

“Skim’s better for you, you know,” Steve managed. “Tastes just as good.”

“You have got to be fucking joking—”

He couldn’t believe he was actually getting off while Danny was going on about milk. He was never going to be able to walk the dairy aisle without getting hard again.

 _Fuck it._ Steve kicked off his boxers, his cock throbbed in the air. He transferred the phone to his other shoulder, Danny’s voice fading out and back in as it orbited. Meanwhile, his left arm got to work resuming the undercover motions. The non-dominant hand was unfamiliar enough and distinct that it could easily be someone else’s fist squeezing his cock, stroking it with an irregular rhythm. His hips bucked into the other’s waiting grip.

“That’s good, Danny,” Steve breathed, eyes shut. And now that stranger had Danny’s face.

“—stuff is not natural I tell you— wait, what?”

 _Shit._ Steve’s eyes fluttered open, hand stopped at the base of his cock. He glanced instinctively towards the shadowed doorway, but of course no one was there. But Danny was _here_ , and his heart raced with the threat of discovery.

“Steven.” Danny’s voice was hard, serious, as he spoke each word slowly. “What are you doing?”

The line was silent save for sound of his heartbeat pounding against his chest.

“Cleaning.”

“You’re _cleaning_.” An eternity of long seconds passed. Danny snorted, “Freak.”

Steve released his breath, being careful to exhale away from the phone. He waited a few seconds before starting up again.

“So,” Danny drawled with a slightly amused lilt. “What kind of domestic activities are we dealing with here, huh? A light dusting?”

“Not much.”

“Shining silverware?”

“It’s just these things lying around.”

“ _Unclogging pipes_?”

“What are we talking about?”

“What _are_ we talking about, hmm, Steven?”

“No idea,” Steve crushed his lips to the phone. “But keep talking.”

Danny muttered something that sounded like _only you_ , _unbelievable_ and _messed up_.

Steve watched himself slip through his tight fist in slow steady rhythm. Milky drops formed at the tip. He spread the pre-come around the head, stifling a groan behind pursed lips. Steve rocked his hips forward into his—Danny’s—slick grip.

At his ear, Danny slurred, his voice dropping another register. “You do this often? Clean, late at night?”

“When I'm too keyed up to sleep.”

“They sell things for that, you know.”

“This is better.”

“Oh yeah? You should come over. You’ll have your hands full for hours.”

“Or you can start cleaning that dump yourself.”

“For the last time, my apartment is not a dump, you smug bastard. Besides,” Danny growled. “You owe me some hard labor after that stunt you pulled today. I want to see you get down and dirty for me, babe.”

In the darkness behind Steve’s closed lids, Danny’s voice filled his head, rough, intimate. It heightened his hearing, and echoed with everything Danny— his sharp stops, his quick huffs, and the occasional expressive “fuck” that sounded to Steve like a promise rather than a punctuation.

“… Sometimes I think you do these antics for the sheer purpose of getting under my skin. Is that it, Steve? You want to push me till I break, hmm?” Danny went on, gravelly and persistent, rolling like thunder. “Oh, but that’s not going to happen, babe. See, you push me too far, I will come at you so much harder it'll make your head spin. I promise you. I will make you fucking lose it.”

Steve looked down and saw Danny with his hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing up and down with delicious friction. And that, that audio-visual combination right there, was the one-two punch that sent him breaking towards the shore. His mouth formed soundless groans as waves of pleasure crashed through his body. He spilled hot and thick all over his hand in drawn out spurts.

Steve pressed the phone to his chest and released a shuddering gasp. He turned to his shoulder gulping for air as the pulsing subsided. In the haze that followed, he remembered to bring the phone back to his ear.

The line had gone eerily silent. _Did he hang up?_ Steve checked the screen. The seconds were still counting up the length of the call.

“Hello?” he ventured. His tongue licked at parched lips.

“Done cleaning, Rosie?” Danny returned, sounding ragged and breathless.

“Uh yeah. Actually.”

Steve hooked a toe through the boxers at the foot of the bed and kicked them up. He swiped the material through his fingers and across the sticky pool on his belly. Balling the material up, he tossed it towards the hamper in the corner and missed.

“You better not be falling asleep on me.”

“Am not.” Steve swallowed thickly, drawing more moisture to his throat and dropped his head back on the pillow.

“Good,” Danny whispered. “‘Cause I'm not done with you yet. You're not getting off that easy.”

“What do you want from me, Danno?,” Steve’s voice came out hoarse and rough. “I’m not going to stop and wait when I need to go all in and finish the job. I don’t worry because I know you got my back. I need you at my back. When everything goes down, I want you with me. No one else.”

“You.” Danny grunted. "Drive me. Fucking. Insane.”

There was a muffled noise through the phone and then, in the seconds after, quiet. Steve lay there listening to the soft breathing. His body felt heavy and utterly relaxed, legs already sinking into the mattress like quicksand. At the back of his mind, he wondered what just happened. But his brain was too far gone to come up with something to say. He cleared his throat.

“You good?”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“So. On your own tomorrow?”

“I can manage.”

“‘Kay. Uh. Night then.”

“Night, Danny.”

Steve thumbed at his phone, dropping it to his side, and slipped easily into deep dreamless slumber.

————

The next day, Danny strode into the office, arm still in the sling, but with a cheerful face for the team.

“You look well rested. That’s good, brah,” Chin said by way of greeting.

“Yeah well. What do you know, Steve’s right,” Danny answered, his eyes locked with Steve. “Tidying up before bed? Works like a charm.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story would not be the same without the wonderful raec123 on LJ! She has the best ideas. A real pro, she is. I’m so lucky to have worked with her. :)


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